


Balance Requires Motion

by deepestfathoms



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horse Racing, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Cowgirl AU, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Horse Racing, Horseback Riding, Horses, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Team as Family, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22149235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: Jane Seymour is the most successful show horse breeder in England. With the help of her excellent horse trainer, Catherine Aragon, she's made Royalling Stones Farm as popular as it is now. Paired with her two jockeys, Anne Boleyn and Anna Cleves, she's been able to create a streak for herself.However, all it takes is her ex husband and his two predatory jockeys, one ill-tempered colt and his seemingly unresponsive filly sister, and a scruffy, amateur rider to bring new competition and pain she wasn't expecting to meet with that fresh season of racing.OR:Cowgirl AU
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	1. Inertia

**Horse barn names/racing names:**

Latte/Overly Caffeinated

Dusty/Avoiding Dust

Vinnie/Vincent Van GoGo

Whisper/TellMeYourSecrets

Blazer/Out-Burn Kamikaze

Listener/Lost Song

Peril/Hell Comes Handily

Queenie/SheBeast

———————

**Jockeys/Race nicknames:**

Anna Cleves/Red

Anne Boleyn/The Trickster

Joan Meutas/Hurricane

Thomas Cromwell/Bulldog 

Thomas Culpeper/Salt

———————

“What did I say about bringing him into the house?!”

“He gets cold!”

“Fuck, he stepped in the food!”

Maggie blinks from where she’s packing up her things, watching as a medium-sized goose honks and hops back up on the table, his foot going into the mashed potatoes. Maria screeches, reaching out to grab her beloved bird, but he flaps his wings and dashes off the table and under the couch.

Bessie just sighed and rubbed her thumb and index finger against her forehead. This is a normal occurrence, seeing as how her roommate favors the bird for some reason.

“You have to stop bringing him in,” Bessie scolds, grabbing the ruined potatoes. She’ll save them for the pigs, maybe.

“But his dad is the devil! He doesn’t deserve to be stuck outside in the cold with that demon!”

Maggie suddenly gasps, placing a hand to her chest.

“Aries is a sweetheart! Sure, he may look a little rundown, but he’s sweet and loving!”

She receives two looks of disbelief.

“You’re the only one he likes,” Bessie says, shaking her head.

“Yeah, he’s a pest for everyone but you!” Maria calls from where she is now, crouching down on the living room floor. She peeks under the couch and then a cushioned seat, squeaking as the goose tries to nip at her. She coos, placing her hand under the chair until the bird hesitantly waddles out.

“Who’s my good Leonardo?” Maria coos, rocking the goose back and forth in her hands.

“I still don’t understand why you named a goose ‘Leonardo’. Too pristine for him,” Bessie says, noticing Maggie scurrying over to the house phone that was starting to ring. “Take him outside.”

Maria let out a long groan, but obeyed and walked out of the house to return Leonardo to his pen. When she returns Maggie has finished the phone call.

“It’s Miss Seymour,” The farmhand informs, “She’s got a mare that’s struggling.”

With that, Bessie is already swiping her car keys and pulling on her coat. She nods to Maria, who heads out the door to the truck.

“Would you like to be dropped off, dear?” Bessie asks her young farmhand, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“I can stay,” Maggie said, “I want to help.”

Bessie smiled and nodded, heading out to the car to get to the job.

—————

“Maria will you stop cringing and help me?”

Bessie’s roommate peeked into the barn, her face pale and expression disgusted, then immediately yanked herself back out.

“Oh, that is so gross! I didn’t sign up for this!”

“You didn’t sign up for ANYTHING! I am letting you LIVE in MY HOUSE for FREE! So get your ass OVER HERE and HELP ME!”

Standing against the far wall in of the barn, Jane Seymour, the farm owner, and her horse trainer, Catherine Aragon, watched this exchange go on. Maggie stood alongside them, holding any tools that might have been needed.

“Are they…?” Aragon’s words trailed off as she scratched the top of her head. “Does this…?”

“Oh yeah.” Maggie said without her finishing. “This is their process!”

“You have your ARM in a horse’s VAGINA!! You never said anything about THAT when I came to live with you!”

“I’ll stick my arm up YOUR VAGINA if you don’t get over here!” Bessie then quieted her voice and stroked the fur of Latte, the foaling horse she was assisting, “Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay… MARIA!!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!”

Maria dragged herself over to the fallen horse and did her best to not look at the hooves sticking out of the mare’s vagina.

After some time goes by, Bessie was pulling on the foal’s front legs, sticky and wet with birthing fluid and covered in the placenta. She was doing her best to be gentle, yet firm enough to pull out the baby, but the mare continued to let out louder whinnies. Jane grips tightly to her shirt as she watches.

“Come on, girl. I can’t do it alone. Push.” Bessie said encouragingly, pulling out more of the baby.

“Come on, Latte, push. You can do it.” Maria said to the mother. The horse’s wild, tired eyes looked up at her.

And, as if she was actually listening, she began to push harder. The foal’s head slipped out a second later, followed by the rest of the upper body.

“That’s it, you’re doing it!” Maria cheered happily, trying to keep her voice down so she would remain calm.

“Almost there,” Bessie murmured as she got a hold of the foal’s middle.

After a few minutes, the foal was finally out. A spew of birthing fluids and placenta followed and Maria was darting out of the barn, causing Bessie to laugh as she peeled off the soaked glove she had on her arm.

“Good work, Mars!” She called.

“Urrg…” Maria groaned from outside.

“You okay, love?”

“Fine…like you care…” Maria grumbled.

Bessie laughed again and then looked back down at the baby. The new foal looked just like it’s mother. Under all that goo was a beautiful, chestnut colored mustang, with a sweet little patch of white on it’s nose. She just about swooned when she saw those large, gleaming brown eyes look up at her.

“It’s a filly,” Bessie called to Jane, who was taking deep breaths of relief.

“Oh, she’s perfect.” Jane said, walking over slowly. “Bessie, I cannot thank you enough. I was so worried…”

The filly began to gather her surroundings, looking around to see where she was while her mother licked and nuzzled her from above. After a moment, she slowly began to stand on her long legs, wobbling and tumbling down a few times, making Maggie laugh a bit before she finally started to get the hang of it. She clumsily tottered her way over to her mother and instantly began to nurse.

Speaking of the young farmhand, she was alerted by voices outside, so she walked out and approached a nearby track.

“Jog him a bit, Catherine doesn’t want anything crazy,“ A dark-skinned girl, maybe around nineteen, called to another colored woman on a horse.

The woman on the horse nodded in understanding. She walked her mount, a large, muscled chestnut mare, down to one of the far poles, circled her around, and shifted her weight forward allowing the horse to start moving.

At the same time, a second woman riding a bulky red stallion, shot by, throwing up dust as they went by. The chestnut mare grunted and staggered backwards, nearly rearing, but she calms when her rider pats her broad neck and whispers something loving in her ear.

“Anne!” The nineteen-year-old barked, “Didn’t you hear me?!”

“She never does,” Giggled the second girl at her side. She was younger, maybe seventeen, and her hair was dyed pink at the tips.

“A jog is so boring! Vinnie and I need something more exciting!”

“Then give me a few figure eights!” The nineteen year old said.

Seemingly content with that, the red stallion and his rider pushed forward and began running in circles. As they did this, Maggie found it to be the best time to approach the two girls.

“Hello?” She called, and the pair leaning against the track fence turned around. The one with dyed hair smiled brightly and lunges for her, hugging her tightly.

“Maggie!” She chirped. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Emergency call,” Maggie grinned, hugging back, “I was still at Bessie’s house, so I decided to come over! Hey, Cathy.”

“Hey, Maggie.” Cathy smiled at her.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Helping Anna and Anne train,” Cathy said, “Since Catherine is with Jane and the mare, we were gonna watch and help out here. We got a race coming up.” Pride leaked into her voice. “How’s your jockey coming along? Bessie said she’s getting into horse racing.”

Maggie inwardly winced, but, luckily, doesn’t actually do it to where anyone can see.

“Joan’s doing good! She struggled a little at first, but she’s come a long way.” She then smirked, “You guys better be ready for some competition.”

Cathy actually laughed loudly at that. Katherine grinned brightly.

“Oh, we are!” Cathy said.

“Speak of the Devil!” Katherine yipped.

Maggie turned around to see a blonde girl, barely eighteen, with tired eyes walking a red horse with black speckles up to the track. She perks up a little.

“Joan!” She called, “What are you doing here?”

“Bessie texted me to bring Blazer over.” Joan said. Her voice was as tired as her eyes were, oozing with hidden pain she tried to shove away. It’s like she’s been shattered and pieced back together several times. She went to say something else, but stopped when she noticed the other two jockeys on the track, moving with such professionalism and perfection that it nearly made her turn around and march back home.

By the gleam in Katherine’s eye, she’s caught the young jockey’s expression.

“Up you get, Joan,” She said cheerfully. “Show us those skills you’ve been honing!”

Joan turned to her to glare slightly, her irritation for Jane’s farmhand already bubbling. She ignores it for now, though, and grabbed the saddle horn and clambered onto Blazer’s muscular back. Surprised, the horse stumbles a little, pawing at the dirt with a front hoof. Then he settles. Somewhat. He doesn’t seem happy…

Blazer hesitates. He shuffles back and forth. Under Joan’s thighs, his muscles tense, and, for a moment Joan thinks he might throw her off. Then, he cranes his head around, looking for something. Joan laughs softly and gives it to him- a sugar cube.

Cathy wrinkled her nose a little at this. Katherine attempts a little lopsided smile, while Maggie shrinks back, secondhand embarrassment stinging her insides.

“He shouldn’t be so fidgety when you get onto him,” Cathy said as gently as possible. “And you shouldn’t have to tempt him into listening to you with treats… Is he not trained?”

“He is trained!” Joan snapped, causing Blazer to stir in agitation at the tone of her voice. She quiets herself, hunching her shoulders in a little, and mutters an apology to her mount. “Blazer’s just…he has a temper. That’s all.”

Cathy and Katherine say no more on the topic. Katherine opens the gate to the track and Blazer trots through the fence.

“Hey, Joan!”

The woman on the red stallion, Anne, came charging up to Joan and, for a moment, the girl thought she was going to get trampled. But then the horse skids to a perfect halt in front of her.

“Hi, Anne.” Joan gave her a small smile. “And this is…?”

“Vincent Van GoGo.” Anne smirked proudly. “Vinnie is his normal name. Anna’s lady is Dusty. Or Avoiding Dust.”

That name was understandable. That mare looked so fast. When she was in a race, she could probably easily avoid dust.

“And who’s this?”

“Blazer.”

“Race name?”

“Race-? Oh! Out-Burn Kamikaze.”

Anne quirked an eyebrow.

“It was Maria’s idea.”

Anne laughed. “Ah! Alright. Well, why don’t you try practicing? I don’t think I’ve seen you ride before.”

Joan nods and heads off to begin.

Figure eights and loops around the yard to start, then she has Blazer hop over a few fence posts one by one. He’s responding beautifully.

Now the tricky bit.

Joan urges Blazer around the curve of the track and leans forward, allowing him to speed up. He does and his canter quickly turns to a full gallop.

Wind tears through Joan’s hair as her mount ran around the track. The air feels crisp while atop the speeding beast- it was unreal.

It was amazing.

But then, all of a sudden, Blazer is spasming.

Spooked by something, the horse jerked to the side and began rearing in circles in the middle of the track. He jabbed at the air with his front hooves, shrilling frightful, or maybe furious whinnies so loud they bring Aragon, Jane, and Bessie out of the stables.

Joan helplessly cries for her steed to calm down, but her yelling only seems to spur his frenzy further. He whipped his head back and forth, turned in every direction, and reared until, finally, Joan came loose from his back and was flung to the dirt. With one final buck of his hind legs, he scampered away to try and calm himself down.

Joan lays dazed on the ground for several long seconds. Her shoulder aches in tremendous pain when she sits up, winding her further. She struggles to breathe as several other cries of horses sound around her. Avoiding Dust and Vincent Van GoGo must have gotten spooked by Blazer’s tantrum.

“Joan!!”

Someone was coming, so she angrily scrubs away her tears and forces herself to her feet. Her shoulder throbs in disagreement, but she ignores the scream of her muscles and bones.

“Joan, are you okay?” Maria asked. Worry was glinting in her eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Joan growled, her voice cracking slightly. She sniffled and clawed away tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks again.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“I’m going back to the farm.” Joan said. She then turned around and promptly walked over to Blazer, who bumped her reddened face as if nothing had happened.

The entirety of Royalling Stones Farm felt silent as she walked out with her horse in tow.

“Is she okay?” Bessie asked Maria the moment Joan was out on the street.

“I don’t know,” Maria answered. “She was crying, though…”

“Poor thing…” Bessie sighed.

“Is everything alright?” Jane asked.

“Besides the kid being bucked off and all.” Aragon added.

“Yeah,” Bessie said slowly. “Joan’s just…got some things going on. That’s all. Anyway…I need to be getting Maggie home. Let’s go, girls! It was good seeing you Jane. You too, Catherine.”

With goodbyes said, Bessie, Maria, and Maggie all piled into Bessie’s truck to leave.

The ride home was awkwardly silent. Maria was going to start up a conversation when Maggie suddenly yelled and pointed out the window.

“What’s going on?”

Bessie and Maria both whipped their heads around to see their jockey and her horse causing some kind of scene in a neighboring farm. When Bessie saw what farm it was, she nearly floored it and continued driving, but she couldn’t do that to Joan, so she pulled over.

“Leave her alone!” Joan was yelling. At her side, Blazer was working himself up to a proper temper, stomping his hooves and snorting.

“What’s it to you, kid?” The man she was speaking to scoffed.

“What’s it to me? The poor thing’s crying out! It’s probably whining because she’s tired. I saw you running sprints with her when I passed by. She’s panting, can’t you see? If you bring her into her stable and give her some water she should calm down, no reason to whip her.” Joan replied, matching the man’s gaze. She has herself bristled up like an angry squirrel.

The horse she was referring to was a giant void of black. The mare was huge, much bigger than Vinnie back at Jane’s farm. However, the large creature was very clearly frightened and kept crying out and pain from when her owner had whipped her.

“It’s my horse. I paid for her. I can do whatever I’d like to her.” The man said, stalking closer to Joan. “Her race name is SheBeast for a reason. Now, why don’t you go off and braid your little colt’s mane whilst I try and break my mare in like a real trainer, aye?”

Joan clenched her fists tightly. Blazer was getting more and more agitated by the second, the cries of the other horse setting him off.

“Alright, that’s enough!”

The sound of Bessie’s booming voice drove Blazer into a bucking fit. The whip-wielding man leapt away as Joan held tightly to her horse’s reigns, which gets her jerked around in the process.

“Jesus fuck!” The man yelled, “Control your horse, brat! Before he kills someone!”

“I am!” Joan snapped.

“Joan.” Bessie growler. “Get Blazer under control and let’s go.”

“Bessie!” Joan said in surprise, still being yanked around by her horse. “Wait- what? We can’t leave! This man’s-“

“Ah, Elizabeth.” The man smirked widely.

“Cromwell.” Bessie spit. She grabbed Joan rougher than she intended to and pushed the girl behind her.

“Please. Use Thomas.” Thomas crooned, “You’re looking well. Better than well. Henry has been saying how good you look at the races and now I see what he means.” His eyes are hungry.

“We’re leaving.” Bessie hissed. She ignored Joan’s blubbering and pulled her to the truck as Thomas laughed and called to her mockingly.

“Bessie, we cant leave. The horse-“

“I know, Joan,” Bessie said. “It’s terrible, but there’s nothing we can do.”

“Yes there is! What’s your deal with this place? Why do you want to leave so badly? He’s hurting that horse!”

“It’s his horse.”

“That makes it worse!”

“Joan, please, you’re making a scene.”

“And you’re refusing to help that poor horse! She needs us!”

“Joan, we are not-“ Bessie cut herself off with a help of pain when Blazer suddenly bites her hand.

—————

Joan furiously threw chicken feed into the coop, tears burning down her cheeks. The birds fluttered around to eat, unaware of what she was muttering about. Not that they would care.

Geez. Was she really at such a low in her life that she thought some chickens would care about her?

( _Nobody cares nobody cares nobody cares that’s why Bessie got mad Bessie is just using her_ )

The girl put the bucket she was using back in the main barn, then went to go get on the horses. There, she found Blazer, munching away on some alfalfa. His twin sister, a gorgeous dapple grey mare named Listener, was in the pen right beside his.

“Are you scared, too?” Joan whispered to her horse. “Is that why you won’t run?”

Blazer didn’t even look up at her.

“Were you scared when you bit Bessie? Were you…protecting me?”

Nothing.

“I’m scared, too.”

No reaction.

However, when Joan opens the corral gate, his head whips up.

Joan steps inside, bolting the door behind her, and Blazer whinnies and lifts his forelegs, mimicking a rear-up, his ears turning back- but not flattening. He doesn’t show his teeth.

Joan lets Blazer circle around, but when Blazer turns to show Joan his hindquarters, she steps back, her spine pressing uncomfortably against the wooden gate.

A good jockey or trainer would have whipped the ill-tempered horse with a coil. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let the horse know it was a warning to not kick out. Hell, even a normal jockey or trainer would know that.

But Joan wasn’t normal or good.

She shrunk back further against the gate, eyeing Blazer’s powerful back legs wryly. One kick from those in the head and she’d be dead.

( _Please kick please kick please kick bust open her skull smash in her brain make her no more make her no more PLEASE_ )

Blazer watches the girl, then huffs, nostrils flared out. His hooves settle back on the ground. Joan smiles a little, dipping her head. She steps forward.

“There we go,” She whispered. She has some sugar cubes in her pocket and puts one in her closed fist, knowing Blazer can smell it. “C'mon, you giant. What else you gonna try?”

Blazer lowers his head like she was. Then, he darts to the side, kicking up a spray of dirt, and Joan laughs, wiping her hand over her face where some hit her. Blazer tries to show his hindquarters again and Joan sidesteps, not wanting to flick her horse, even if it wouldn’t hurt. Blazer huffs trots around the corral.

“I got all the time in the world,” Joan warns the animal, as Blazer snorts and blusters again, pulls up short as if he can trick Joan into turning too far. Seems put out, huffing in annoyance when Joan proves too smart for that. Joan laughs and Blazer finally seems to calm, his ears rolling forward. He shakes his mane out and swishes his tail like a wagging dog.

Joan hums, and then she goes to the edge of the corral, keeping her eyes on Blazer. She sits back, and bends down so she can keep her thighs on one of the metal bars, but her chest is behind it, and she can put her arms over the bar above and stay upright. Blazer snorts at her, walking slowly back and forth, side to side but getting a little closer each time, like he’s testing the waters. He looks almost sheepish, like someone realizing they had been blowing things way out of proportion.

Joan grins at him, and offers the sugar cube with a flat palm.

Blazer perks up with a soft whinny, ears forward, and lips delicately at the mint. He snorts at the girl, long lashes dipping over his dark, warm eyes. Joan knows horses aren’t capable of having thoughts like people do, don’t understand things like taxes and God, but there seems to be some focused shine in Blazer’s eyes, and Joan thinks, with a smile, that they have just come to some unspoken agreement.

“There we go,” She murmurs, petting over Blazer’s big, warm cheek. The stallion breathes out heavily, warm on Joan’s arm and chest, and swishes his tail again, taking another slow step forward. “I know, you just had to get it all outta your system.”

She laughs when Blazer nudges at her pocket, seeking another sugar cube. She pushes Blazer’s forelock to one side, scratches over his forehead, and cups his cheeks.

“Who’s my big brave boy?” She whispered to him.

It could have been pure coincidence, or, perhaps, Blazer really did understand her, but the horse paws the dirt with one hoof and bobbed his head up before returning to Joan’s hands. The girl stared in shock for a moment before a wide, giddy smile stretched on her features.

“Yes you are!” She cooed and pressed a gentle kiss to his soft nose. “You’re my big brave boy.”

Joan closed her eyes, relaxing herself as she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Blazer’s.

“We’re gonna be champions, you and me.” She told him. “We’re partners. And we can do this. I know we can. Even if we’re scared, at least we can be scared together.”


	2. shout out loud (the moment of the peak)

**Derby Lineup**

  1. Talk Of The Town and Arthur
  2. All That Jazz and Samuel
  3. SheBeast and Bulldog
  4. Rookie’s Gambling Chance and Lucas
  5. Hell Comes Handily and Salt
  6. Out-Burn Kamikaze and Hurricane
  7. Lord of The Flies and George
  8. Donut Tell Daddy and Hugo
  9. Jewel-Eyes and Rodric
  10. Deepest Fathoms and Rocky



———————

The fair grounds was a cacophony of sounds: shouting, neighing, clatters of tools, hoofsteps, laughing- it was all swirling into one big mess of noises, and Joan could barely think because of it. By the way Blazer kept fidgeting and tensing his muscles beneath her thighs, he was antsy, too. 

“It’s okay, boy, it’s okay.” Joan murmured to her steed. She saw his ears flick back and his haunches shift underneath her, but he doesn’t rear. “I know, it’s loud. I don’t like it, either.”

Carefully, she slid off of Blazer’s back and walked him to the stables where Bessie and Maria were waiting for her.

“Maria got you registered,” Bessie said. “You need to go get dressed.”

“Dressed…? Oh, right! Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go do that!”

Bessie shook her head as she watched the girl scurry off to the jockey dressing rooms.

“She’s a scruffy little thing, isn’t she?”

Bessie turned around to see Aragon standing there, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Catherine.” Bessie said, “I didn’t know you were racing today.”

“I’m not,” Aragon said, “I came to watch. We all did. Jane’s up in the stands with the others already.” She paused to glance at Blazer, who was fretting anxiously in his stall. “Now…about your pair here.”

“I know what it looks like, Catherine.” Bessie quickly said, “They don’t look like much. It probably seems like I scraped them both off of the street or something, but they have a _light_.”

Aragon quirks a brow up.

“You should see them run. They know what they’re doing. I believe in them.”

“I hope so, Elizabeth.” Aragon said, “Your girl is gonna need some support. This is her first race. She’s not going to have many people on her side yet.”

Bessie swallowed hard at that revelation. Most of the stands will be screaming against Joan, not for her. She just hoped the girl and her horse would be able to hold out for the entirety of the race.

—————

Joan is sitting in the jockey room, in a far corner, away from all of the other jockeys. She had already dressed out and was patiently waiting for her race of the day. She was clad in black riding boots, white pants, and a checkered indigo and white jacket. Her safety helmet and whip were beside her on the bench she was sitting on. She already had her long blonde hair done in a braid and then a tight bun so she could tuck it safely out of eyesight when the time came to race.

At first glances, she almost looked like she knew what she was doing.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. She did know what she was doing, she’s been training, but the anxiety of her first race was getting to her. For example, she had woken up that morning mid-panic attack before her eyes even fully opened.

And she knew for a fact jockeys that knew what they were doing wouldn’t have that happen to her.

It didn’t help that everyone else in the room was a man, meaning she was not only the youngest, but also the only girl. Now she really had to prove herself worthy of being equal to her male counterparts.

Hoping to distract herself from her festering anxiety, Joan looked up to watch the big TV up on the far wall, where the hosts of the racing channel talked about the odds and favorites of the next race today. SheBeast was a close second favorite going into the race, next to another horse by the name of Lord of The Flies.

Names Joan didn’t recognize at all continued to pop up on the screen, until, finally…

Joan’s heart dropped right back into the pit it almost crawled out of.

_**10th- Out-Burn Kamikaze** _

They were dead last in favorites.

“Would you look at that,” A biting voice cackled from the side. “The runt and her piece of psycho roadkill are last.”

Joan whipped her head around to glare at the owner of the voice- Thomas Cromwell. At his side was a younger man, slightly younger than Cathy.

“At least I don’t abuse my horse.” Joan spit, making herself seem tougher than she actually was.

“Abuse?” Thomas exclaimed. “Don’t spread lies, little girl. You don’t know anything.”

“Well, new jockeys are known to say things to try and weaken their opponents.” Comments the younger man, “They’re stupid enough to think it actually works.”

Joan was just about to leap up and thrash the two of them when someone came into the room to tell the jockeys it was time for them to saddle up. Thomas and his little goon, who Joan would later learn was Thomas Culpeper, another jockey to Henry Tudor, head out for the place where all the horses were being held at the end of the walk. Joan glared at the back of their helmeted heads, considering using her whip on them, but couldn’t find the courage to do so.

They all heard loud voices of the fans as they made their way to the paddocks. As the horses and trainers lined up came into view, each jockey moved towards their respective mount. There, Joan saw Blazer shifting anxiously on his haunches, looking all around as the sounds grew louder and louder. Maria was doing her best to calm the horse.

“Hey,” Maria said, “How are you doing? You look pale, hun.”

“Nervous.” Joan answered honestly, clenching and unclenching her hands. “Really nervous.”

“I can tell.” Maria offered an encouraging smile and then helped the girl get her helmet on. “Remember, let him make his own pace coming out of the gate. Don’t push him until the very end. And no whip unless absolutely necessary. Bessie’s orders.”

Joan nodded as she clambered onto her horse’s back. Blazer shifted his weight beneath her, but didn’t throw a fit. In fact, he seemed to settle with the girl mounted on the saddle.

“Have a safe ride,“ Maria called after them as Joan and Blazer were led out onto the track by an escort. “Good luck!”

Passing that threshold, Joan realized she and her horse were no longer Joan and Blazer.

They were Hurricane and Out-Burn Kamikaze.

(Jockey nicknames were an occasional thing that riders chose, but Anne said the press loved it, and Joan needed all the help she could get to get people to like her, so she went along with it. Thus, Hurricane was born.)

Cheers erupted from the stands as the ten horses in the race were walked out onto the field. Joan had told herself to keep her eyes forward, to stay focused, but she found herself looking all around the track stadium to try and find the only people who would be cheering for her. And she did, along with the Royalling Stones Farm team, who must have came to watch.

Ice cold fear shot through Joan’s veins. Now she _really_ couldn’t mess up or it could ruin Bessie’s image- _her_ image for Catherine, Jane, and their team.

And that was something she _really_ didn’t want to do.

The escorts led the horses up to the starting gate as the announcer spoke loudly to the crowd, introducing the racers. One by one, each horse was walked into the stalls in order. Blazer- no, Out-Burn Kamikaze had no problem getting into his designated spot, number six, but once the door shut behind him loudly with a clank and squeal, that’s when he began to act up.

Out-Burn Kamikaze began nervously neighing and backing up against the gate. Blazer was starting to slip out of his race facade, which isn’t something Joan wanted to happen. Not during their first race.

“Shh, shh,” Joan whispered, leaning down to speak into her horse’s ear. “It’s okay. It’s-” She cut herself off with a yelp as the stallion to her left rammed against the metal grating separating the two of them, startling Out-Burn Kamikaze further.

The clamor was starting to get to Joan, too. The stall was so small and it was so noisy from all the rattling iron and horse cries. She felt like she was suffocating and, without realizing it, she found herself becoming shortened of breath.

“Holy shit, kid, are you alright?” The man to her left, the one with the stallion who hit into her grate (he apologized, at least) asked.

“She’s fine.” Said the man to Joan’s right- Thomas Culpeper. “Let her work herself up. Maybe then she’ll realize this isn’t for her.” He laughed cruelly.

His taunting words registered in Joan’s ringing ears and she grit her teeth, stamping down her panic attack. It just kept bubbling to the surface, so she finally gave up on calming herself and rather turned to her horse.

“Come on, boy,” She half whispered, half wheezed, “Calm down. It’s okay. I’m with you.”

Just when she thought she had Out-Burn Kamikaze settled, an ear piercing ringing sounded from above and the gates flew open.

The horses jetted from their stalls, leaving clouds of dust floating in the air for Out-Burn Kamikaze to totter blindly through.

Joan swore she could hear laughter and mocking whispers amongst the roaring crowd above her. For a split second, she turned her head up to them to stare helplessly, but then she whipped her gaze back down and tugged on the reigns.

“Come on, Blazer!” Joan urged the staggering, crying horse, “Come on! Come on! You can do it, buddy! Come on, you’re my big brave boy, aren’t you?”

Those words seem to get through Out-Burn Kamikaze’s fit because he suddenly reared and charged forward, nearly throwing Joan off in the process. Luckily, the girl held tightly to the reigns and hollered in glee as her mount took off.

“Yes! Yes! Go, Blazer! Go!”

The sound of the hoofbeats was hypnotizing. And it only got more and more hypnotic the closer and closer Joan and Out-Burn Kamikaze inched towards the competition.

The first horse they passed was a deep red color, then a chocolate brown one, then one the shade of bloody mud.

“Easy, Blazer, easy,” Joan said to her horse. “You’re doing great, buddy. Steady on.”

Out-Burn Kamikaze snorted and urged himself forward without his rider’s command. Almost sensing his need to speed up, Joan obliged and finally lifted herself fully off of the saddle, leaning forward and adjusting her weight so it would be at the front. Practically standing up on this sprinting beast’s back made a strong sense of vertigo wash over her, and she thought she might fall off, but Out-Burn Kamikaze’s increasing speed brushed away her worries.

“Run, Blazer, run!” Joan cried into the wind, “Run, boy! Let loose! Go! Go!!”

Joan’s grip may have been tight on the reigns, but Out-Burn Kamikaze was controlling himself. He weaved through two horse almost perfectly, despite them never training with moving obstacles, only the occasional stock-still ones. He knew to angle to the right to avoid getting his legs tangled up in an opponent’s and banked a hard left at the next turn that was so sharp it cut off the rider in front of him.

“You’re doing it, Blaze!” Joan cheered, “You’re doing it!” She laughed, and couldn’t tell if the tears in her eyes were from joy or the wind and dirt flying into her face. Either way, she was ecstatic. She also needed to get goggles.

They both crossed the finish line for the third time, starting the final lap. Joan was still shouting in glee when, suddenly, something slammed into Out-Burn Kamikaze’s side on the last leg of the race, ramming him right against the wall where one side of the stands were situated above. Joan yelped as her shoulder and side were grated painfully against the metal as her horse was pushed further against the structure. She turned to see Culpeper glaring at her from his raging red horse, Hell Comes Handily.

“You’ll learn one way or another, little girl!” Culpeper spat, “This isn’t for you!”

Joan grunted and she heard Out-Burn Kamikaze screech a furious neigh. He whipped his head to the side, baring his teeth and rotating his ears back. His anger was a cold, deep, dark thing that Joan knew about well. He once kicked down a barn door just because he was pet in an area he didn’t want to be pet in. That being said, Joan has taken a lot of time to learn his mannerisms and techniques to calm the beast.

Now was not one of the times to use those.

“You don’t belong here!” Culpeper hissed.

Joan grits her teeth, feeling the scrapes already tearing open on her shoulders thanks to the wall. She looked forward and saw they were about to come to the next turn and cross the finish line. The wall was going to end. Joan smiled.

“What are you grinning at?” Culpeper growled.

“This.”

Joan heaved her body to the side, hitting her helmet against Culpeper’s thigh and causing him to lurch Hell Comes Handily away in surprise. Joan leaned off of the saddle, shifting her weight downwards and aiding Out-Burn Kamikaze in the sharp turn that nearly flung her off of him completely, but she held tightly. Her arms ached as she pulled herself upright again, but the impressed swell of coos and shouts around her gave her strength to get situated again.

“Good job, Blazer!” Joan said, “Good boy! Keep going! Burn, Blaze, burn!”

With a mighty huff, Out-Burn Kamikaze hauled himself forward with a burst of speed. In those final moments of the race, it felt like he was flying, spreading majestic flaming wings and soaring down the finish line.

And soar they did.

When Joan crossed the finish line, she felt like she could breathe again. Even though the race was barely three minutes long, those moments felt like an eternity. But finally it was all over.

She collapsed forward, taking deep breaths as if SHE had did all the running, and hugged around Out-Burn Kamikaze’s furry neck. She buried her face in his mane, laughing.

“We did it, buddy! YOU did it!”

Slowly, the horse came to a halt and Joan sat up, finally taking in the full view of the stands from down on the track. She laughed again, a wide smile stretching across her features. Sure, the people probably weren’t cheering for her, the fourth place winner, but it still felt good to hear.

“They’re going to be cheering for you one day, bud,” Joan told Blazer, who was coming down from the high of running as Out-Burn Kamikaze. “We’re going to be their champions.”

A sudden swarm of reporters and cameras then caught Joan’s attention. She turned to them, realizing they were coming towards HER.

“What did it feel like to be pinned against the wall by one of the best rider’s in England?”

“How did it feel to beat that rider?”

“How long have you been training this horse?”

“Were you scared when Out-Burn Kamikaze wouldn’t run at first?”

“Why didn’t he run at the beginning?”

“What exactly did you do on that final turn?!”

Joan, who was slightly overwhelmed by all the attention, did her best to answer all the questions. She made sure to be polite and used her manners when speaking to the reporters- everything she saw counted. Plus, they had several cameras trained on her. She had to choose her words wisely.

“Joan!”

“Maria! Bessie!”

Joan slid off of Blazer’s back right into the arms of Bessie and Maria, who held her tightly.

“Oh, sweetheart, you did wonderful!” Maria exclaimed. “You were so amazing out there!”

“Maria cried.” Bessie snickered. She cups Joan’s cheeks as her roommate blubbered about that being a lie. “You’re not the only one, though, Mars.”

Joan sniffled a little, laughing as Bessie brushed away a half-dried tear streak trailing down her face.

“It was just- it was unbelievable.” Joan whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know,” Bessie said, smiling. “I’m so proud of you, darling.”

Joan grinned. She glanced over Bessie’s shoulder to see Jane and her team walking over.

“Wow.” Catherine said. “Just- wow.”

“You were amazing!” Anne declared.

“Yeah, when Culpeper had you pinned against that wall, I didn’t think you were gonna get out of it.” Anna admitted. “But you did! You really proved me wrong. You are something else, Joan.”

A dark pink blush appeared on Joan’s cheeks and she fiddled with her helmet calls sheepishly. She obviously wasn’t ready for this amount of praise.

“Thanks.” She said shyly.

From behind her, Blazer was starting to act up, so she quickly turned to him.

“Is he gonna have another fit?” Katherine asked.

“No,” Joan said, watching the way her horse bounced on his front legs and bobbed his head up and down. She smiled brightly. “I think he knows he won.”


End file.
